


Mistletoe

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [15]
Category: Alice Nine, the GazettE
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shou and Hiroto slip away during the PSC Christmas party to have some romantic moments under the mistletoe. Little do they know that there’s another couple with the same idea – and they’re going to do a lot more under the mistletoe than kiss. Our boys are in for a Christmas show like no other, and one thing’s for sure – it won’t be a Silent Night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly revised version of my Christmas fic from 2011, part of the Stargazer series. This was also my first Kai/Uruha fic!

Through all of Alice Nine's years with PSC, some things had changed – the lineup of bands (Kagrra and Miyavi were very much missed), the fashions, the who-was-dating-who. But one thing always remained constant . . .

The day closest to Christmas when everyone was free was always the PSC Christmas Party. Granted, in a country where Christmas was a “borrowed” holiday mostly for the purpose of putting up pretty decorations and eating cake – not to mention spending a romantic evening with your loved one – a Christmas party wasn't as mandatory as in the West. That didn't stop the company from doing an elaborate one.

Appropriately enough for a holiday that came over with the Americans, it was held in a huge, Western-style hotel built during the American occupation – which had also served as a set for a few PVs. It was always festooned with the appropriate decorations at this time of year – blazes of lights in the trees outside, poinsettias placed here and there, bunches of red-ribboned pine branches on the walls.

It was this setting that Shou and Hiroto entered, dressed to the nines and openly hand-in-hand – because, after all, press-free PSC parties were a safe space to be open about relationships.

“Look at it,” Hiroto said, peering into the grand ballroom. “It's even bigger than last year.” Indeed, they'd rented out the largest ballroom in the place, filled with a Christmas tree that would rival the one in Rockefeller Center, tables groaning under enough food (both Japanese and Western) to overwhelm even Nao, and candles glowing near the place settings.

“It's romantic,” Shou whispered to his lover, squeezing his hand. “If you and I could get a quiet corner table . . .”

“That's not going to happen,” Hiroto said, as they entered the room and were immediately approached by a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses. They were starting the booze circulation right away this year, it seemed. Which meant that by 11, there would be drunken rock-paper-scissors tournaments going on. Hiroto just hoped, for the sake of the others, that nobody would think to provide Shou with a rubber hammer.

“We'll have to find a way to be alone later, then,” Shou said, taking a glass and sipping at it gingerly. “It's our first Christmas together, after all.”

“We'll be alone later,” Hiroto said. But truth be told, he was excited about this being their first Christmas together as well. This was a lovers' holiday almost to the extent that Valentine's Day was. He'd spent the last couple of Christmas Eves having dinner with friends – it couldn't be a late night, because the band usually had a Christmas live – and wondering what Christmas would be like if he could spend it with Shou, as a couple.  
This year, he was going to find out.

Nao rushed across the room toward them, dressed in a full Santa suit – save for the beard. “Shou! Hiroto!” He grabbed both of them in a hug and crushed them against his body, making Shou do some quick juggling with his glass, lest he douse all of them with booze. It wouldn't do for Santa Nao to smell like a brewery.

“You've got to see the food table! Yasuno and I hit the buffet already. There's ham and turkey and sushi and gyoza and . . .” He took a deep breath. “It's better than gratin croquette burgers.” For Nao, this was the highest recommendation on the planet.

“Give us time to settle in,” Shou said. “We literally just walked in the door.”

“Well, if you want to sit with us, we're all over there,” Nao said, pointing to a table in the middle of the room. “Tora and Saga came in already, they're at our table too, but I think they went off to find Keiyuu. Oh, and if you want to talk to Ruki and Aoi, they're at the buffet now. I'm going back for seconds!” Another hug, and Nao was off like a shot.

Hiroto watched him go. “He went all out, didn't he?” Nao had arrived at the Christmas party in festive gear before – one year, he was sporting a pair of reindeer antlers and a bulbous red nose – but never before had he showed up in a full Santa suit.

“He's happy,” Shou said. “Remember, he's spending his first Christmas with the one he loves, too.” Looking around the ballroom, he said, quietly, “A lot of us are.” Tora and Saga were having their first holiday as a couple, too, as were the very happy Aoi and Ruki.

They approached the food table – only to be stopped by a certain bassist, holding onto his first drink of the night with one hand, a decidedly non-Nao-sized plate of food with the other. “So you got here,” he said. “I thought you two were getting your private Christmas celebration in early.”

“Saga!” Hiroto turned bright red.

“Like everyone doesn't know you're having one? You were the celebrity couple at the Peace and Smile Carnival party, remember. Everyone oohed and ahhed over how cute you were together. These guys can be worse than fangirls, I swear. Sometimes I think . . .”

He was cut off by a tiny figure rushing up to them, dressed nearly as festively as Nao – although Keiyuu had forgone the full Santa suit in favor of an all-red outfit, a small Santa hat perched jauntily atop his blond-and-pink hair. On him, it all managed to look cool – but after all, this was the guy who'd managed to rock a Harlequin suit with a tiny witch's hat in his latest PV.

“There you are,” he said to Saga. “You're not going to believe what I just saw.”

“I've seen a lot,” Saga said. “Try me.”

The small vocalist took a deep breath. “I just saw Kai come into the room. Holding onto a glass of champagne with one hand . . . and Uruha's hand with the other.”

And suddenly, all activity around their little group suddenly stopped, as if the room had gone into suspended animation. People froze in place, glasses in the air, mouths open, Keiyuu's announcement, after all, had been loud enough to carry quite some distance. True, this particular crowd fed on music – it was the driving force of their lives. But if there was anything else it fed on, it was gossip. Especially when the gossip involved a new couple.

“Are you sure?” Saga said. “I mean, really sure?”

“Positive,” Keiyuu said. “They were both smiling ear to ear. I think I might have even seen a bite mark right at Kai's collar. They're still over there . . .”

And then, it was as if a loud “Tally ho!” had sounded. The crowd stampeded toward the entrance, trying not to make themselves look conspicuous but failing miserably, trying to catch a glimpse of the new couple like paparazzi flocking toward the Starlet Du Jour.

Saga watched them all go for a moment. Then, he turned to Shou and Hiroto.

“Looks like you two aren't the celebrity couple anymore,” he said.

* * *

By the time Shou and Hiroto got to eat, the party had fully become the Kai and Uruha Show. It seemed that wherever the drummer and guitarist went, they were followed by a group of people who were trying very hard to look like they weren't rubbernecking, weren't looking for any little sign of affection.

“It's like high school,” Saga said, cooly. “Only worse.” Never mind that he was one of the rubberneckers. He'd just gotten very good at hiding it. He could follow the couple all the way across the room with his eyes without moving his head once.

Next to him, Tora smirked. “You're just jealous because you didn't get these two together.” He wasn't going to bring up the fact that Saga had been responsible for Uruha's last relationship, with one of their photographers - which had blown up in a spectacular fashion. He wanted to celebrate Christmas in his lover's arms, after all, not on the couch.

Saga's head snapped toward him. “What's that supposed to mean? Nobody could have seen this coming! In fact, Uruha probably would have been one of my last choices as to who Kai would end up with!”

“I guess people around here are getting unpredictable enough to fool even you, babe,” Tora said, smoothly, grabbing Saga's hand and squeezing it.

Saga hmmphed. Well, he still had his greatest triumph. Shou and Hiroto were still very happy . . .

But where the hell were they? They'd finished their food, and vanished. “Did you see where Shou and Hiroto went?” Saga asked Tora.

“Maybe they ran away,” Tora said. “They probably wanted private time.” He squeezed Saga's hand again. “Which doesn't seem like a bad idea.”

“Later,” Saga said. He was too busy keeping his eyes on the couple du jour. Discreetly, of course.

The answer to Saga's question was that Shou and Hiroto had taken advantage of the attention directed elsewhere to discreetly slip out of the party and explore the rest of the hotel. Hand in hand, they wandered the halls, peeking into huge, rustic meeting rooms and ballrooms.

“Why did the Americans need this much space?” Hiroto said. “You could probably fit the whole population of Japan in here and still have room left over.”

“Americans do everything big,” Shou said, as they finished peeking into one room and moved on to the next one. “Have you seen some of the cars that they drive? They'd block out the sun.” He'd seen footage of American roads, clogged with enormous SUVs, and it made him thank all that was holy for the Tokyo transportation system.

“It almost seems like a waste to me.” Hiroto peered into the doorway they now found themselves facing, blinking into the near-darkness. It had been the site of a Christmas party the night before, and a few of the holly-and-pine decorations were still clinging to the walls.

Not to mention something that seemed to be hanging down from the ceiling.

“Shou,” said Hiroto, “what's that?” He pointed toward the object.

Shou leaned over, peering at it. “Oh, wow,” he said. “It's mistletoe!”

“Mistletoe?” Hiroto said. “As in, kiss someone under it?” He didn't want to think about the fact that such a thing might have been the décor at a corporate party. It brought up unpleasant thoughts of bosses taking the opportunity to grab and kiss their office ladies.

“You've got it,” Shou said . . . and suddenly had a wicked thought. “Let's go in there. I want to kiss you under the mistletoe. What could be more appropriate for our first Christmas together?”

Hiroto looked at him. “Are you sure we can go in there?”

“It's not guarded,” Shou said. “Nobody else seems to be using it. Come on!”

But little did he know, just as he got that idea, a certain other couple was getting weary of all the attention they'd been attracting all evening, and had gone off in search of a place where they could be alone . . .

* * *

The vocalist and guitarist ducked into the ballroom. It looked even more old-world-Western and rustic than the rest of the hotel, sporting red walls with dark wood trim and an enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling that looked like an explosion in a crystal factory.

The mistletoe was dangling from this, a tiny sprig of natural green against all that glitter. The impression it gave was sort of like a fully made-up visual kei singer wearing a plain T-shirt over his finery, really.

Shou pulled Hiroto into the room, laughing playfully, and shut the door behind them. With the chandelier turned off, the room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the Christmas lights outside. Shifting patterns of red and green and gold covered the walls, the floor and the two lovers.

“Right here,” Shou said, standing right under the mistletoe and holding his arms open to Hiroto. His lover eagerly entered the embrace, and they kissed, tender and warm. Somehow, it didn’t seem right to kiss with fierce passion under the mistletoe – at least, not at first.

Their lips broke apart, and Shou held Hiroto close to him, savoring the other man’s warmth. Why the hell was he such a fool before? He could have been doing this last Christmas, could have had Hiroto this close to him all the time . . .

“Look over there,” Hiroto said, quietly. Shou raised his eyes, and saw that there was a mirror opposite them – set into the top half of a closet door. A strange place for a mirror, to be sure, but he wasn’t objecting – not when he could look at himself holding the beautiful guitarist, the two of them looking happy and content.

“We look like we belong together,” Shou said.

“It’s because we do,” Hiroto said. “And we always have.” He reached up and stroked his lover’s face tenderly with his fingers. “Shou, I . . .”

“You don’t have to say it,” Shou said in a near-whisper. He brought his lips to Hiroto’s again, and they started to kiss . . .

And then, they heard the doorknob turn. Oh, crap, Shou thought. It was probably hotel security. They weren’t supposed to be in there. The last thing they needed, to ruin an evening like this, was to get in trouble with PSC.

“Closet,” he whispered. “Quick.” They scurried across the floor as quickly and silently as possible, and Shou opened the door, the two of them slipping inside – just as the front door opened completely, and somebody entered the room.

Make that two somebodies. Who just happened to be the star couple of the evening.

“I knew I saw mistletoe in here,” Uruha said, leading Kai by the hand across the room. “See, there it is.”

Kai looked up at the sprig, seeming rather perplexed. “Who left that here?” he said. He was thinking in terms of the perfectionist bandleader, of course – little bits left behind wouldn’t do.

“Who cares?” Uruha said, catching his lover in his arms. “It doesn’t matter why it’s up there. All I care about is . . .” And he brought his lips to the drummer’s, having absolutely no qualms about a too-passionate first kiss under the mistletoe.

Over in the closet, Shou and Hiroto huddled together, waiting, watching the other couple . . .

Wait, watching? Yes, it was true. They were looking through the door and seeing the other couple perfectly well in the flickering Christmas lights.

“Shou,” Hiroto whispered, “I thought this closet had a mirror in the door. This is a window. We can see them clear as day!”

“It was a mirror,” Shou whispered. “We were looking at ourselves, remember?”

The other couple broke apart, and their heads turned toward the closet to see their refelctions – just like Shou and Hiroto had done. The two within ducked, fearful that they were going to be seen.

Uruha said, “Look at yourself. Look at how goddamn hot you are. You know that I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you all evening, don’t you?”

Kai seemed to blush a little at his words. “You look beautiful, too,” he said. 

The two in the closet peeked upward, tentatively. “They really can’t see us,” Shou whispered. “Hiroto, this is a one-way mirror.”

“Why put something like that in the closet door?” Hiroto whispered. “Doesn’t it seem . . . odd?”

Shou thought a moment as he watched the two in the ballroom start to kiss again. And oh, yes, those kisses were getting hot, their mouths open, their tongues brushing against each other. Uruha reached up and grabbed a handful of Kai’s hair in his hand, pulling his head closer . . .

Shou knew he shouldn’t be watching. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away. They were beautiful. And sexy and . . . oh, yeah, Hiroto had asked him something, hadn’t he?

“I think this closet wasn’t originally, well, a closet,” he whispered back. “I think it was some kind of watching post for security.”

It would make sense. During the time of American occupation, it would stand to reason that the hotel guards would be concerned about drunken Western soldiers pawing the lovely Japanese waitresses bringing them their drinks. So they put in a one-way mirror and stationed a security guard to keep an eye on the proceedings without being seen . . .

“How are we going to get out?” Hiroto found himself watching the other couple through the glass, despite the fact that he was blushing hotly. With good reason. Uruha was unbuttoning Kai’s shirt now, just far enough to slide his fingers inside and caress a nipple. Kai leaned his head back, eyes closed, which just served to expose his neck . . .

When Uruha nipped at him, Kai let out a soft moan, hands reaching up to clutch at his lover’s hair. Uruha just smirked and began leaving a trail of soft nips along the column of the other man’s throat.

Shou leaned over toward the door, pressing his body against Hiroto’s from behind. This only made Hiroto panic a tiny bit. Watching the two make out was making a slow warmth pool in the bottom of his stomach. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be watching, he shouldn’t be turned on by watching, he shouldn’t be hoping that Shou would move even closer, brushing up against him . . .

Shou did just that, as Uruha finished unbuttoning Kai’s shirt, pushing it aside as he started to sink to his knees, slowly, kissing along his chest, finding a nipple and circling it with his tongue. Kai let out a gasp. “Shouldn’t . . .shouldn’t we go upstairs and get a room . . .”

Uruha raised his head, looking up at him with mischievous eyes. “What fun would that be?” he said. And he moved lower, kissing along his stomach, his tongue coming out to lick at the firm flesh . . .

By now, both Shou and Hiroto were breathing heavily, unable to take their eyes off the action. Shou pressed himself against Hiroto’s back, his hand moving to the front of his lover’s body, toying with the zipper in Hiroto’s pants.

Oh, my God, Hiroto thought, what’s happening? This is like a scene from a bad porno. (Not that Hiroto was an expert on pornos. That was Saga’s department, after all). Shou was going to unfasten his pants now, wasn’t he? Yes, that was what was happening, just as Hiroto watched Uruha do the same thing to Kai, pulling down the zipper and pushing his pants down enough to free his hardened cock. And what a cock it was - much, much bigger than the Japanese average.

And at the angle where the two men were standing, Shou and Hiroto had a lovely view in the dim light – which just seemed to make the atmosphere all the more sexy and romantic – as Uruha dragged his tongue from the bottom of his lover’s cock to the top, and back down again.

Hiroto felt his pants being pushed down over his ass, heard Shou’s pants being unzipped as well . . . and before he knew it, Shou was leaning over him, kissing his neck, his hardened cock pressed against Hiroto’s ass, sliding back and forth between the cheeks without penetrating. (Lube wasn’t something they’d exactly counted on having on hand tonight, after all). His hand reached around Hiroto’s body, grabbing his cock and starting to stroke . . .

And on the other side of the door, Uruha wrapped his lips around the tip of Kai’s cock, teasing the other man relentlessly with hot, wet strokes of his tongue, moving all around the head, making Kai give out a moan of pure need. The heat within him was finally overwhelming any misgivings he had about doing it here.

“Please . . . suck me, I need it . . .”

Uruha lifted his head. “Beg more,” he said, teasingly.

“Please, please, give it to me, I want to feel it . . .”

“Want to feel what?” Uruha stroked a single finger over Kai’s cock, just making the other man shudder. “Tell me.”

“I want your mouth on me.” Kai blushed a little again. “All around me . . . as far as you can . . .”

The fact that a seemingly sweet, innocent man was saying these things just had all the more effect on the two in the closet. Shou let out a little moan, moving his hips faster, and Hiroto found himself starting to thrust back as well, pushing himself against Shou’s erection, sliding himself through his lover’s fingers.

“All right,” Uruha said. “That works.” And he wrapped his lips around Kai again, this time sliding down on him, and down, and down . . . It astonished the two viewers how much the guitarist could take easily.

“Like that,” Kai gasped. “Oh, yes, like that . . .”

Uruha began to suck faster, his head moving up and down as Kai tangled his fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer. Hiroto watched the drummer tip his head back, a look of pure bliss on his face, eyes closed, lips parted . . . and, oh, Lord, the noises he was making, moans and sighs and murmurs . . .

Hiroto let out a moan of his own, and clapped his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t let them hear him . . . but they certainly didn’t give any indication they were aware of their watchers, did they? Not the way they were lost in each other, Uruha moving up and down on Kai’s cock, then pulling him out to lick slowly from root to tip again (and this time, it was Shou who couldn’t help himself from letting out a moan).

When Uruha slid down on him again, he began to move faster, letting out small humming noises to send vibrations through Kai’s cock, making him moan all the more. Kai was bucking his hips now, just as Hiroto was bucking his hips, thrusting hard against Shou, just as Shou’s cock slid faster between Hiroto’s ass cheeks, his fingers fluttering over the other man’s length.

Shou was touching Hiroto just the way he wanted, twisting his hand a little on the downstroke, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tip, smearing the drops of precome.

Kai had his head tipped so far back it was nearly resting against his back now, and his moans were louder and louder as his lover seemed to devour him. “Uruha,” he cried, “I’m going to . . . going to . . .”

His control broke at the same time Hiroto’s did, and both men cried out at the same time, Hiroto’s come flowing over Shou’s fingers at the same time Kai’s poured down Uruha’s throat. Both men relaxed, panting . . .

Uruha stood up, quickly unfastening his own pants, and took Kai’s hand, leading it to his aching, unsatisfied cock. Kai, through his haze of afterglow, got the message immediately, and wrapped his fingers around it, stroking his lover rapidly. Uruha covered Kai’s hand with his own, encouraging him, his head leaning back as he moaned . . .

In the closet, Shou gripped Hiroto’s hips and thrust against him again, moaning fully now, unconcerned about whether he was going to be heard – which he probably wasn’t, the way Uruha was moaning, Kai’s fingers running along his length, then over the head, then down the shaft again.

“Oh, yes,” he moaned. “That’s good . . . that’s so good, baby, I’m close . . .”

As the two in the closet watched, Kai ran his thumb around and around the tip, and Uruha suddenly cried out, spilling white essence all over his lover’s fingers . . . as Shou cried out in answer, and Hiroto felt the warm wetness against his ass.

Two couples clung to each other, panting, Kai embracing Uruha, Hiroto leaning back against Shou, tilting his head back so they could kiss, tenderly. For once, they weren’t looking at the other couple, who were also kissing, sweetly.

Kai pulled back from Uruha a little, looking embarrassed. “My fingers . . .”

“Good thing I always have tissues,” Uruha said, reaching into his pocket and pulling a few out. He used one to clean his lover’s fingers off. “You don’t want to lick them off?”

Kai just gave him one of his room-lighting smiles. “I can’t believe we just did that,” he said. “I’ve never . . . well, outside a bedroom, or bathroom, or . . . .”

“You’ve been limiting yourself.” Uruha crumpled up the tissues, leaning in for another kiss. “We’ve got a lot of possibilities to explore, then.” He zipped his pants. “Come on, we need to at least put in an appearance out there.”

Kai buttoned his shirt quickly, then fastened his pants. “Do I look all right?”

“You look more than all right.” Uruha walked over to the door. “Always.”

Shou and Hiroto watched the other couple leave the room, hand-in-hand. Once their footsteps retreated, Shou darted out of the room, making a beeline for the spot on the floor where he saw a couple of Uruha’s tissues had dropped as they were pulled from his pocket. He brought them back to the closet, and quickly cleaned off himself and Hiroto.

Hiroto was still dazed – and not just from his orgasm. “Shou,” he said, “what just happened? What did we just do? It was almost . . . “ He blushed. “Surreal.”

“I’m not quite sure,” Shou said. He was pretty dazed himself. It had all kind of just . . . .happened. One moment they were kissing under the mistletoe, the next they were in the closet, watching another couple as they satisfied each other.

“I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened,” he said, finishing the cleanup and zipping his pants. “What mattered is, well . . . it’s our secret, right? Something only we know about.” He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his lips. “We’re not even going to tell Tora and Saga.”

“Especially not Saga,” Hiroto said, shuddering a little at the thought of the band’s resident hentai finding out about their little adventure in voyeurism. They’d never hear the end of it. (Of course, Hiroto had no idea that Saga and Tora had their own little adventure in voyeurism, watching Shou and Hiroto over the webcam).

“So, we’ll just go back into the party, and if anybody asks, we went for a walk and bumped into someone we knew in the lobby.” Shou’s sharp mind was making up a cover story quickly.

“We’d better have a name of who we bumped into picked out,” Shou said. “If we give two different names . . .”

“Nothing to worry about, love,” Shou said, giving him one last kiss before they headed for the door. “Nobody’s going to know what happened in here, right? Like I said . . . our secret.”

Hiroto nodded and squeezed Shou’s hand, and they headed out the door, back toward the main ballroom. And there was one thought in his head about “their secret” that made him blush bright red.

He knew that for quite some time after this, when he and Shou made love, his head would be filled with fantasies of Kai and Uruha, fully naked and fully wrapped up in each other. That would be his secret.

* * *

When one has ended up having a sexual encounter in a closet, while watching another couple having a sexual encounter, probably the last thing in the world one would want to see upon returning to the civilized world would be Tora and Saga.

Unfortunately, this was exactly what Shou and Hiroto – both of whom were looking a bit love-rumpled despite their best efforts to fix themselves up – were facing when they reentered the party. Worse still, they could have sworn that there was a single, giant smile that started at Tora's right ear, dipped down to both chins and finished at Saga's left ear.

“We wondered where you went,” Saga said, without breaking the Megasmile. Shou and Hiroto didn't know how that was possible. Of course, they weren't quite sure how it was possible that the Megasmile formed in the first place.

“Um, we just wanted to check the rest of the place out,” Hiroto said. Which wasn't a lie. That's how the whole thing started, right? Before the mistletoe and the making out and the witnessing an incredibly hot couple getting it on in front of them . . and he shouldn't be thinking of that, because that was just making him blush redder, and damn, the Megasmile just got bigger. Hiroto could swear it was starting at the top of their heads now.

“And just what did you check out, hmm?” Saga said.

“Just another ballroom,” Shou said, as smoothly as possible. “There's an interesting Christmas decoration in there.”

Tora and Saga exchanged a look, which made the Megasmile briefly warp into something that looked like it could swallow the universe. “Just what kind of decoration are we talking about?” Tora said.

“You'll see,” Shou said. “But it does involve kissing.” And he tugged Hiroto's hand and propelled him across the room.

Hiroto looked over his shoulder. “Shou . . . they're going to go looking for the mistletoe now. And they'll know.” No way in hell would Saga not notice Kai and Uruha were gone, also. Would he figure out that . . .

“No, they won't,” Shou said. “There's no evidence left behind, except some tissues in the trash can. We shut the closet door, so they won't see anything but a mirror. And they can have their own fun with the mistletoe. We want them to have their own holiday memories, too, right?”

Across the room, the couple du jour had also reentered the party, and were attracting not only attention, but speculation as to their absence. Which they didn't care about – let them all wonder. Except there was one small thing . . .

Kai leaned over toward Uruha and whispered, “Did you feel like we were being . . . watched in there?”

“Watched?” Uruha grabbed another champagne off a passing tray. “Baby, what are you talking about? We were in there all alone. The door was shut.”

“I thought I heard noises. You know, other than us.” Kai shook his head. “Maybe it was just my imagination.”

“If somebody looked, let them look all they want. They can't touch you now.” Uruha pulled his new lover into an embrace, gracefully not spilling the champagne. “Nobody can touch you but me.”

And they kissed, not needing mistletoe this time, just prepared to make their own first-Christmas-together memories . . .

Not realizing they'd made memories for someone else.


End file.
